Life With Noah

By LOIS ETHERIDGE

White County Historical Society

oah Martin celebrated his 100^th birthday January 5, 1997, and he was still “Pop” to me!  He lived with his daughter, Mrs. Evelene Stephens, west of Pleasant Plains. There he was born and there he lived. His house was “a little ways” down the road.

           During morning worship at the community’s Landmark Missionary Baptist Church, presentation of a beautiful plaque for his 75 years of faithful service.  After church, the plaque, flowers and gifts were taken to his home as family, kinfolk and friends gathered to honor him.  My sister Norma and I arrived after most of the group had left so we had special time with him and his family.  He was sitting in his chair with his niece Doris Wenger of Searcy at-the-ready with a camera. When I bent to kiss him on his forehead, he placed his hands on my face and said, “Oh, Lord, it’s Lois!” He was having a wonderful time, alert and still “witty.”  He was so pleased with all of the gifts and cards, including a red leather, large-print Bible and a pocket watch and chain.  Doris took his picture holding the plaque from the church. I remember his reading a small Bible that had been his father’s.

          As I sat close to him we shared memories. He said, “I remember from 95 years ago – so much going around in my head.”  He asked if I remembered going to Osceola to pick cotton. I told him, “I sure do!” He, Evelene and I and his cousin Frances Roberson and her daughter Faye “batched” and slept on the floor (I remember only one bed and two rooms) in a small house for cotton-pickers.  Frances was chief cook – the biscuits were good even if made with water instead of buttermilk.  The delta land grew tall stalks and big fluffy white bolls – different from hill cotton. The big watermelons in the rows were good! I picked over 300 pounds – a long day with draggint the cottonsack and half-carrying it over my shoulder to be weighed.  We had fun! His wife Mabie, who I called “Mur,” stayed home to take care of their place.

          We talked about the goats; the barn was across the road.  When Pop butchered one for food (I wasn’t very brave), I helped hold the head while he used an axe to chop it off.  He knew just how to “dress” it so it would be good.  Then, the fried steak was good – I don’t know about that, now!

          When I was in the ninth grade at Pleasant Plains School, after spending the night with a friend, the next day I wrote to her parents and asked if I could come live with them. They had helped others; I needed a good home and I knew I had found one.  I called them “mummie and dad.”  Soon, my sister followed and lived with them until she met a young man from “Board Shanty” – that is what the Union Grove Church was called when the old building was there. At church she made friends with the Martins; she had visited their daughter Evelene.  She moved to their home.  I followed and they took me in too!  When she married and left, I stayed.  I had a special place in my heart for my dad and mother. He died when I was eight years old; she was ill and in a hospital for years, unable to take care of us. I needed to feel close to and be loved by a family. I didn’t want to call anyone I lived with “Mr. and Mrs.” or by their first names so they were “Pop and Mur” to me.

          More memories of my life with the Martins. Evelene and I following cowbells and chasing the cows through the woods at milktime; the big snake on a rock ledge at the swimming hole at the creek; boys walking us home from church; pie suppers where I “won the cake” three times and tied for another; the long steep hill with a short curve near the top – a couple of guys, Evelene and I – the old car couldn’t make it and we rolled backward into a ditch; washing clothes at the springs with iron kettles, tubs, washboard, drying some of them on the grass and bushes.

          Mur was a little lady but she could do a lot in a little time.  She made a dress for me of print that Pop bought – red, white and navy with red buttons down the back. I didn’t know they were going to do it!  She was net, tidy, lovable and happy.  I helped her in the kitchen.  Mornings, I made chocolate gravy.  With hot biscuits and with the other food, I was quite plump!

          One summer I went with cousins to pick cherries in Michigan.  When we returned they took me to my sister’s.  I didn’t know quite what to do.  About dusk, I walked to Board Shanty Church, went inside along, walked on to the Martins, and I was “home” again!  Through the years, when I thanked them, Mur always said, “We did it for the Lord!”

          On my birthday card to Pop, I wrote that I knew he had honored his parents [Exodus 20 “Honor thy father and thy mother…”] …. And he was “fitly” named [Genesis 6 “Noah was a just man”]. God spared Noah and his family from the flood. Noah was 600 years old then. After the flood he lived 350 years. Methuselah was Noah’s grandfather and lived 969 years.

          When we left, I kissed Pop on the forehead and told him, “You are a fine man and I love you.” He placed his hands on my face again and said “I love you.”

          My Pop, Noah A. Martin, died December 31, 1997.  Services were held at the Union Grove Church west of Pleasant Plains and burial in the Union Grove Cemetery.  It’s a very unique place. The cemetery is covered with white sand, no grass.  It was like that when I lived with the Martins. 

If you have additional information on the Martin families of early White County, please share it with the White County Historical Society, P.O. Box 537, Searcy, AR 72145.